


He's a Terrible Patient, Looks Good in A Suit

by poesparakeet



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sickfic, janto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 06:49:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poesparakeet/pseuds/poesparakeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto gets sick, and much to his alarm the whole hub is in charge of taking care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It started with a cough. No-one had thought anything of it, as he was using his strongest cleaners to get alien sludge out of the couch, the cleaners Jack was seriously considering weaponizing on the off chance a germ monster came through the rift. The second slip in Ianto's self control came when he was coming up from the archives, a sneeze slipping out while he was concentrating on not dropping the stack of files he was holding. That one was loud enough to make him freeze, checking to see if anyone had heard. The dust from the archives seemed to have belayed any suspicious glances he might have otherwise gotten.

At this point Ianto know he was getting sick. It had all started when that really disgusting Alien (whom Jack had termed a Cthulian and was responsible for the aforementioned sludge on the couch) had fallen through the rift, leaving it to them to get him back. Cthulians drooled, stank, had nostrils the size of Ianto's head, and apparently thought it was a great compliment to a good leader to proposition his 'mate'. (Still had to talk to Jack about the 'mate' thing.) Ianto chalked it up to stress from having the awful, slobbering thing around. His immune system and faltered because of the stress and now he was bloody sick.

The thought made him growl softly to himself was he loaded the team's coffees onto his tray. He hated being sick. Ianto Jones was a doer, and thus a terrible sick person. No matter how many times Owen described the literally millions of things his body was doing at any given moment during recovery, Ianto continued to feel useless and lazy.

The next sneeze could not have timed itself worse. He was holding the coffee tray in both hands, and standing exactly where everyone in the hub could see and hear him, including Owen in autopsy and perhaps worse yet, Jack in his office.

“HACHOO!” The coffees fell, crashing to the ground like falling porcelain bells, loudly announcing the hot flood that was sent splashing across the concrete. Everyone came towards him, Jack stepping down the stairs, all concerned looks save Owen, who was pure suspicion.

“Ianto! Are you OK?” Tosh took the tray from his hands and looked him up and down for broken glass. Gwen was right behind her.

“Did you burn yourself?”

“Nope!” Ianto replied, big smile in place. “I'm fine. Must be the dust, I was in the archives earlier. I'll get a mop.” He turned to go, only to find Jack in his way and looking distinctly unimpressed. He stopped short just as Owen came up behind the girls.

“HOLD IT Teaboy.” Owen yelled while he tried to dodge Jack. A firm calloused hand clamped down on his shoulder. “Let's have a look.”

Ianto gave Jack his 'save me' look in a last-ditch attempt to escape his horrible fate as Owen reached around to feel his forehead. Jack's face became even more unsympathetic, if possible. “He's bloody burning up.” Came Owen's prognosis. Yes, Jack's face could definitely become more unsympathetic.

The hand on his shoulder pulled him towards the med bay, Jack following close behind to thwart any escape attempts. His lover then positioned himself next to the gurney as Owen ran his tests. When the doctor went to run his samples threw the scanners, they didn't even speak. Jack just stood there, feet spread and arms folded across his chest, frowning. Ianto sat on the gurney feeling sorry for himself. Owen came back within moments.

“Well, the good new is it's a common cold virus. The bad news is, it's not common. Alien origins, most likely slobbery origins, which means...” the medic's grin was a little sadistic, “someone gets to recover right here in the Hub for containment purposes. Here. Where I can  _watch_  him recover. In bed.”

Ianto groaned, collapsing on the gurney in despair. He hated being sick.


	2. Chapter 2

Ianto was miserable.

 

The first thing Jack did when Owen announced Ianto was staying at the Hub was start pulling his lover towards the office. Owen frowned at the sight.

“I don't want him in your bunk, Jack, he'll cheat when no-one's looking.”

“I know.” Jack replied. Owen's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the two continued towards the stairs. Then his eyes widened.

“No strenuous activity, either!” 

That remark perked Ianto up considerably, until Jack rolled his eyes. “I know, Owen, I'm just getting the pyjamas he has in my place.” 

This drew a small 'aww' from the girls; either because they were being 'couple-y' (Gwen's word), or worse yet they were 'aww'-ing at the thought of Ianto in his jammies. The thought made him want to hole up in Jack's bunker and never come out. 

Once they were down in the bunker Jack sat him down on the bed and ordered him not to move as he dug through his drawers. For the first time since the fated sneeze, Jack addressed Ianto directly. 

“I can't BELIEVE you tried to hide it.” Jack's voice was furious, so much so that Ianto was taken back. “What if it had been something really BAD, Ianto? Don't you remember what happened last time?”

Ianto blushed at the memory. A short visit to his sister's house while his niece was sick had turned disastrous when both he and Rhiannon had forgotten that Ianto had never had chicken pox as a kid. He hid it pretty well at first- most of the spots were on his body, and assuming they were hives he had started taking an antihistamine. It hadn't been until he'd passed out cold in the middle of the Hub that he'd learned two important facts: One, chicken pox was a much more serious ailment when contracted during the adult years. Two, he was allergic to certain brands of antihistamine.

When Jack finally turned around to look at him, still furious, Ianto was feeling appropriately ashamed. But between his awful emotional state and his terrible physical one, his expression crossed a line inside Jack. Deciding he could not stay mad at Ianto when he looked _that_ pathetic, he softened his expression as he helped Ianto out of his suit.

“Look, I'm sorry I yelled. I know you feel like shit without my help, but I need to get it through this stubborn head of yours.” He knelt down in front of Ianto where he was seated on the bed, placing a kiss on the head in question. “When you hide how sick you are, you make everything worse. Your sickness, the chances you'll infect someone else, the chances Owen will kill you when he finds out...” Ianto smiled at him for that, then kissed him lightly on the lips before pulling back a little. 

“You probably shouldn't kiss me.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I've been kissing you plenty until now. Besides, I can't get sick.”

Suddenly it occurred to Ianto that Owen was probably thinking about the chicken pox incident as well at this point, and his concern turned away from Jakc and towards his own well-being. Jack laughed at the terrified glance shot in the general direction of Owen's med bay.

“Don't worry, I won't let him kill you.” He assured, helping Ianto pull a t-shirt over his head. “That said, let me make one thing clear. You _will_ do everything Owen tells you too, or so help me I will make you SO sorry.” He advanced slowly, maintaining eye contact and pushing Ianto flat on the bed while he hovered over him, nose to nose. “I'll tell Owen about all the times you laced his coffee with laxatives when he was mean to Tosh. I'll tell the girls all of your ticklish spots- yes, even your calves- and I'll tell them to use them as they see fit. I'll tell Gwen about the time you moaned her husband's name in your sleep. I'll tell everyone what your sister calls you, then I'll tell them what your _mother_ calls you-”

“Jack! Jack enough, I'll behave. I promise.” Ianto cut him off with a wince, suddenly back to feeling sorry for himself. Jack's wicked grin wasn't helping. It was his smarty-pants grin, the same one he used when he had some dashing plan to pull one over on a dangerous alien or criminal. The appearance of this grin did not bode well for Ianto.

He sighed as Jack pulled him up, silently cursing the leverage the man had over him. Introducing his lover/boss to his older sister (who had a memory like an elephant) was the worst decision he'd made to date. He was going to have to build a database of all the secrets Jack learned, just so he could keep track.

Ianto cringed when he caught sight of the only pyjamas he had at the Hub. The little green aliens seemed to laugh at him as he pulled them on. They had been a joke present from Jack, and Ianto had left them there without thinking he'd ever have to wear them. After all, how often did he wear clothes when he went to bed at the Hub?

Climbing out of the bunker just made things worse. If the girls hadn't been melting at the image of Ianto in his jammies before, they certainly were now. Then he saw the bed. It was a fair-sized surplus hospital bed they had for circumstances such as these, but instead of being set up in it's usual corner of the med bay it was about ten feet to the left of Tosh and Gwen's stations. In other words, in the middle of the bloody Hub. Ianto felt as if he might melt out of embarrassment, ooze through the floor of the platform and hide underneath for a while. Jack was having nothing of it, though.

“See!” He cried brightly. “Right in the middle of the action! No way to get bored or lonely with such lovely neighbours!” Ianto was thinking that loneliness might be preferable next to Gwen's pitying, let-me-take-care-of-you smile. 

Keeping to his promise, he climbed into the bed without a fuss. He sat patiently as Owen poked and prodded. Then he swallowed all the pills offered to him. Then he sat still and dozed for four whole hours. Then he decided he'd had enough of this lying still business and started plotting way to stealthily occupy himself without being caught.

Owen was elbows-deep in an autopsy, and Jack was occupied with all the extra paperwork he had to do without Ianto to prep things for him. Then something struck a chord in the part of Ianto's brain dedicated to scheming and dealing with government officials. He paused, grabbing onto the thought and dragging it slowly back up to the surface. Then he smiled. 

“Gwen. Gwen!” he whispered, waving to get the brunette's attention. Gwen looked up at him, put on her sweetest gap-toothed grin and strolled over to perch on the side of his bed. Ianto played it up, snuggling back into the pillows and coupling a weak smile with 'save me' eyes.

“Hello, sweety, I didn't know you were awake! What do you need?”

“I need something to do, Gwen.” he sighed, touching her arm.

“But Owen said-”

“-Owen said I had to stay in bed and recover. I could lay here, recovering to his heart's content if you give me those reports and forms on your desk. Then you can go home to Rhys and I can get over this flu without losing my sanity. It's a win-win-win situation.”

She pursed her lips at his offer, studying him for a moment before giving her paperwork a glare. Then her grin was back, and she patted Ianto's arm. “Oh, you silver-tongued thing.” She stood up and went over to her desk. 

Ianto's heart soared for a moment until he saw that Gwen wasn't reaching for her paperwork. She picked up her comm. Ianto groaned.

“Ianto just tried to tempt me into passing off my paperwork on him. Who had five hours?” She laughed and winked at him. Not only had she been onto him that whole time, but the team had a pool going on how long it would be before he tried something.

Jack bounced out of his office. “I have Tosh down for 5 hours 15 minutes, which makes her the winner.” he handed Tosh an envelope. “Don't spend it all in one place. Did you know his sister calls him pompiwn?”

At this Ianto promptly threw the covers over his head and hid. Tosh and Owen looked confused until Gwen translated for them.“Pumpkin! His sister calls him pumpkin in Welsh! Oh, that's so _cute_.” Her excitement made Ianto sigh. If he got any 'cuter' he'd start on fire.

“Can't I at least have a book or something?” He cried, muffled from under the blankets.

Owen scowled at him. “No. I gave you a sedative for a reason, _Pumpkin_ , and you're doing nothing but sleeping until that fever comes down.”

Once Jack's punishment was over and the inevitable teasing that followed had abated (for the time being), Ianto admitted a temporary defeat. The battle lines were clearly drawn, he had no allies and Jack was ready to make good on his threats. Besides, all that plotting had given him a headache, and he was sleepy. While everyone else went back to their separate doings he curled up and fell into a deep sleep.

He woke up about an hour later when the gear door opened and a London accent yelled “Hello, Torchwood!” The familiar voice made Ianto sit up and smile. Martha gave him a short questioning look as she walked in, waving that she would be right back before heading up to Jack's office. Ianto considered going after her, but they had started to notice the dozen or so bathroom breaks he had taken in an attempt to sneak in some time on his feet. Besides, if Martha had time she would come and see him. Then she would undoubtedly set him free when she found out how awful they were being to him, because Martha was the reasonable and nice kind of doctor. Not the mean-spirited kind that called him Teaboy and wouldn't even let him read in bed.

At that point sitting up became a bit of a challenge as Owen's sedative kicked in, so Ianto flopped back onto his pillow and watched for Martha to leave Jack's office. When she did so it had only been a couple of minutes, and instead of coming towards him she walked over to the med bay. 

That was worrisome. Owen's doctor talk might hurt his chances of being rescued. Ianto sat up again and unsteadily set his feet on the floor.

Owen, meanwhile, was in the med bay with Martha. 

“Honestly, Martha, that git is going to put himself in a coma. I have half a mind to restrain him, but then I'd have to worry about keeping Captain Man Whore off of him.”

Martha giggled and rolled her eyes. “I'm sure Jack can control-”

“-Shit!” Owen cut her off with a curse, his eyes glued to the monitor that watched the main Hub. The girls had gone for lunch, and there was a heavily sedated Ianto who looked like he was about to get out of bed.

Owen let out a furious growl, before bellowing at the top of his lungs. “IANTO TEABOY PUMPKIN JONES! IF I SEE YOUR FEET TOUCH THE FLOOR I AM GIVING YOU THE REST OF YOUR MEDS IN THE BIGGEST GODDAMN NEEDLE I CAN FIND!” With that he pocketed Ianto's pills and reached into a drawer, drawing out a wide-bore steal needle two thirds the length of his forearm. On the screen Ianto all but leaped back into bed.

Martha gasped. “Owen! That's an adrenalin needle!”

Owen was already storming towards the main Hub. “He doesn't know that.”

Martha sighed as she trailed behind him. “This is why you work with corpses more than people. You scare all your patients to death.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Ianto was miserable (and a little terrified.)

Until now he had always had the assurance that when Owen inevitably snapped, Jack would be around to save him. When Owen had come at him with the monstrous needle in his hand, Ianto had immediately screamed his lover's name. However, Jack's white knight complex had it's limits, and Ianto had surpassed them somewhere between his attempts to coerce Gwen and the third time he'd been caught out of bed.

So when Owen (still holding a needle the size of a turkey baster) told Ianto to “Lay down and hold very still.” He immediately complied, no white knight in sight. He was ramrod strait in bed, covers pulled up to his chin when Owen slowly lowered the needle. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out some now-familiar pills, and told Ianto to swallow them. Ianto complied. Then Owen turned around and walked back to med bay, calling out to Martha: “You sticking around?”

“Well, I'm stuck in Cardiff till the day after tomorrow. Might as well.” She smiled, moving over to stroke Ianto's fevered head. “Besides, it's not often I have the undivided attention of my _favorite_ Torchwood employee.” Ianto smiled at her, and she leaned in, whispering. “Don't tell Jack that part.” Then she budged him over on the bed so that she was smooshed up next to him, her presence a comfortable warmth and weight through the blankets.

Ianto pulled out his 'save me' eyes one last time, finally getting the response he'd been looking for (almost). Martha looked at his face and pouted her lips, smoothing a cool hand over his forehead once more. “I know you're bored, love, but you need to rest.”

“But Martha...”

“Hush now, I know. I'll make you a deal. If you rest up and your fever comes down by one degree, I'll send Jack out for whatever takeout you want, doctors orders. Then we can chat and watch telly, you and me.” She raised both her eyebrows questioningly, though she knew the answer. His eyes were already drooping, and he nodded.

“One degree?”

“Yeah, but don't think on it too hard. You'll just make it worse.”

Ianto nodded again, then relaxed into the pillow. He was dead to the world within minutes.

When Ianto next woke he could still feel Martha at his back, hear the sound of shifting paper as she flipped through a book. In front of him, waiting like so many colourful little demons intent on forcing themselves and bed-rest upon him, was yet ANOTHER pile of pills. They were like Owen in capsule form. He shut his eyes again quickly in an attempt to delay the inevitable. 

Martha, however, had already noted the change in his breathing. When she shifted to see him playing possum, she chuckled. No wonder Owen was ready to tear his hair out. Carefully so as not to let on, she reached out one hand until her fingers were poised behind Ianto's left ear, then ran wiggling fingers over the back of his neck.

The resulting sensation made Ianto nearly leap out of his skin. He rolled over fast to eye Martha reproachfully, before pausing to consider how she might have known to do such a thing. He groaned.

“Jack told?”

Martha laughed. “I'm afraid so. He wasn't exceptionally pleased that Owen had to threaten you back into bed with a weapon. He did tell me to let you know that you're-” she deepened her voice and took on an American accent “- lucky I only told you, and that I didn't mention which spot makes him scream like a schoolgirl.” Martha laughed at her own imitation and slid off the bed to reach for the thermometer. Ianto groaned again as she stuck it in his mouth.

“No winging.” Martha scolded. “You'll muck up the reading and I'll have to do it the hard way!” Ianto's cheeks reddened and his eyes bulged. Even Owen never threatened him with that! Martha caught the look on his face. “What? I can be tough.” Ianto smiled again. He knew Martha could be tough. That why he was counting on her to protect him from Owen, since Jack wasn't in the mood and he'd promised not to shoot the medic. Again. Speaking of medics he wanted to shoot...

Owen strolled over from the autopsy bay. “Make him take his damn pills while you're at it, Martha.” Ianto glared hard at him. “If Jack's leverage over you is the only thing keeping you in that bloody bed, I'll get him a telly station. Actually, a radio station, because no-one should have to wake up to the things Tosh sees on the CCTV when you two get careless.”

Martha laughed, winking at Ianto as she handed him a cup of water to down his pills with “Somehow, Owen, I don't think Tosh minds.” Owen made another face before turning and grumbling his way over to his desk. Ianto choked on his last swallow of water, blushing again. Martha grinned at the sight. “Aww, Jack's right. You ARE adorable when you don't know you're gorgeous.” That had them both laughing. 

Next thing Ianto knew, a pare of warm arms embraced him from behind. Jack's voice sounded close to his ear, hot breath rushing down his neck. “Are you feeling better, or did Martha need to use her new secret weapon?”

Martha climbed back onto the bed next to Ianto. “A bit of both. Temp's down three degrees!” Ianto felt smug, then leaned into Jack so he could look up into his face. 

“I think that means you're going for Indian.”

Jack's eyebrows shot up. “Am I?”

Martha smiled coyly. “It's my medical opinion that bribes work best on stubborn patients.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I see, and how did I get dragged into this?”

Ianto suddenly pulled away from Jack, wrapping his arms around Martha. “I'm ill. If I'm left without medical supervision I _might_ slip away.”

Jacks eyebrows flew higher. “I _see_. But Owen's here!”

Ianto frowned, squeezing Martha tighter. “So if Martha leaves I _will_ slip away. With screaming and violence.” 

Jack rolled his eyes. “He's not that bad, but I will get you Indian food. Butter chicken?” Ianto nodded. 

“Me too!” Martha piped up. At Jacks look she said “Well, if I'm malnourished I might slip in my care-giving duties. Do you want that?”

Jack sighed, defeated. “Oh. Dear lord, no.” 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Ianto was miserable.

The previous night had Martha leaving at around ten for her hotel room, about two hours after the rest of the team. He's groaned when he saw Jack, fully dressed, settle down on the couch a few feet away with two of his nasty bodice-ripper novels. Apparently he had no intention of sleeping that night. Ten minutes later the rift alarm went off, Jack ran out after a Weevil and left Ianto alone in his ridiculous hospital bed in the dimply-lit hub. Unable to move for fear of breaking his rushed promise to Jack as the other ran out the door, and partially weary of the consequences such a betrayal may invoke. It had been a fitful night, his fever still a tad too high for comfort, until Jack came back in the wee hours of the morning to sit on the couch and continue his reading. Rest came easier, then.

When Ianto woke from his deep sleep it was to the sound of laughter ringing through the hub. Martha and Jack stood a few feet from his bed, arms flung around each other in a passionate embrace, each with one hand holding Jack's book.

“Oh... Findlay!” Martha gushed. Her eyes slipped from Jack's to the open page of the book. “Wrap your tight, muscled arms around me! Oh, what muscles, like potatoes they are!” The entire room broke up in laughter while Jack and Martha tried to maintain their serious faces and sultry eyes.

“Victoria, my dear,” Jack drawled, in what was possibly the worst British accent Ianto had ever heard. “Your love is like a wildfire through the kindling that is my poor, broken heart.” Gwen was on the ground now, still giggling wildly along with the rest of the team.

Ianto piped up. “Don't believe him, that's what he told _me_ last week!” All eyes turned to him, wide and teary from laughter. 

Martha was the first to reply. “Just a mo, Ianto, you can be the sexy Welsh stable-boy in the next chapter and seduce my husband away from me.” 

Jack took the book and flipped forward thoughtfully. “Actually, I think you're the one who gets seduced by the stable boy. And he's Greek.”

Martha rolled her eyes. “Well, ours is Welsh, and I am not the hussy in this relationship!”

“Are you calling me a hussy?”

“Yes. Yes I am.” With that Martha pursed her lips, crossed her arms and watched Jack expectantly.

Jack paused there, looking thoughtful for a moment. Then he turned to Ianto without arguing, walking towards his lover in a manner best described as 'predatory'. “Well, if we're going this far off script, I don't think it's the stable-boy who does the seducing.” With that he took Ianto into his arms, half carrying him as Ianto's legs wobbled from being suddenly forced to support his weight after so long in bed.

“Alright!” cried Owen, throwing his hands up in the air. “That's me gone. His pills are on the counter, Harkness, see that he gets them. Once at ten, once at six. Goodnight!”

Ianto was confused. “You're leaving already?”

“Yeah, Teaboy, It's quitting time!” Everyone else in the room nodded, starting to grab their things. Jack laughed.

“It's six PM, Yan.”

Ianto's eyes got round. “Six PM? I slept all day?”

Martha came over and gave both men a kiss on the cheek. “You sure did, love, and a really good rest too. You slept through all you're boyfriend's shenanigans. I'm on a plane bright and early tomorrow, so this is goodbye.”

“Bye, Martha.” Both men answered, Ianto blushing at her remark. Boyfriend? Was he Jack's boyfriend? Did Jack know they were boyfriends? Did men their age have _boyfriends_? Then, what else would you call it? Still, it sounded like something his niece might chant in the schoolyard. He broke out of the reverie as the gear door shut behind Tosh.

Jack was still there, though. “You should probably get back in bed.”

Ianto groaned, the temptation to go limp in despair almost overwhelming, but he kept his feet. “Jack... I slept for twenty hours!” 

Jack sighed.“Why don't you go shower and clean up. I bet you'll feel better.” Ianto let out a sigh of relief, slipping from Jack's arms to stroll happily towards the showers.

The water felt cool against his heated skin, and the shower was more refreshing that he'd dared to hope. It felt like the sickness was washing away from his body. Between soap and toothpaste, he felt like a new man. The feeling wore down slightly when he stepped out of the showers in a borrowed set of Jack's sweats to find the Captain waiting for him in the main hub. Ianto's eyes slid to the oh-so-hated hospital bed, and he let out a sound of despair. “Jack...”

Jack sighed, moving forward to wrap his arms around Ianto's waist. “What's it going to take to make you take your pills and go to bed?”

Ianto smiled and pressed himself against Jack in an attempt at distraction. “I can think of something.”

Jack sighed again. “Oh, Ianto Jones, what am I gonna do with you?” He stopped when Ianto gave him his most lascivious grin. Then he huffed, glanced towards the med bay, looked around the hub and smiled back. “Well, Martha did say bribes work best.” He planted a light kiss on Ianto's lips. Ianto hummed happily.

“She is very good at it.”

Jack shot him a wicked grin, before kissing Ianto again, hard his time. Then his lips slid slowly up Ianto's jawline, following the sensitive ridge all the way up to his ear before nipping at the lobe. “Who do you think is better?” 

Ianto groaned when Jack's teeth brushed his throat. “Oh, you, definitely you.” Jack chuckled, pulling Ianto in closer. “But then...” Ianto pulled away. “She DID marathon all of my James Bond movies with me, something you blatantly refuse to do...”

Jack growled. “I'm the only secret agent with futuristic technology who never ages that you are allowed to ogle!” Ianto laughed, and Jack started to playfully half-carry him towards his bunker. Jack proved all the ways he was superior to James Bond that night, and Ianto proved that he really was on the mend.

 

_Epilogue- Two Days Later..._

 

Ianto was thrilled.

 

Jack, Tosh and Gwen were miserable. Gwen was snuggled on the now-clean couch, sniffling up a storm. The Captain was bundled into the bed Ianto had previously occupied, receiving the 'bad patient' treatment for himself. (Or, as Ianto called it, the big-fat-hypocrite treatment.) Tosh, as the only person Owen actually trusted to rest and recover as ordered, got to sit with her laptop in Jack's bunker. 

“OWED!” Jack yelled from behind a pile of tissues and bra-buster romance novels. “You are a terrible doctor! How could you dot realize we would all ged it?” A look of consternation. “Wade. Why didid YOU ged it?”

At this Owen shrugged. “The Tea Boy was the only one showing symptoms. It was an alien virus, and we'd just had an alien around. Since no-one else got quite as... close... to our guest as your, ahem, 'mate' did I assumed with was passed through direct contact with the alien being. So, none of you could get it once he was gone. Didn't worry about you snogging him because you're always telling me you can't get sick.” He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment. “ I knew I wouldn't get it because I had my flu shot two weeks ago, though the shot should have protected you lot as well... oh, wait. That's _right_ , none of you got your flu shot because you're a punch of pansies who ran away from my needle. Whoops.”

Every sick person in the Hub groaned, and Ianto laughed. As he passed out his extra-special sick-person coffees (with extra whipped cream and the mint sprinkles he refused to buy otherwise), he also re-considered his impression of the team's medical officer. Owen was an excellent doctor. 

 


End file.
